


Half-Loving

by littlecloud



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Could Be Canon, F/M, Gen, Season 2, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1383769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecloud/pseuds/littlecloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hadn't had a problem ending lives after he saved hers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half-Loving

He hadn't had a problem ending lives after he saved hers.

That is what Charlie thinks about at night, is unable to understand no matter how she contorts the truth. She watches him kill – even _slaughter_ – every day. No remorse. Sometimes, the blood remains in his facial hair for days, and he is okay with the reminder of war. It isn't that she is unfamiliar with killing, but accepting it, coveting it – no. They started a war to save the world; Monroe seems to stay for the fatality of it all.

If she had succumbed to those men, been attacked in whatever way they pleased, it would not have been his fault. She gets that. Even her mom would. She would not have died as a result of Sebastian Monroe, at his hands, it would not be like Danny. He could have not watched out for her, and she would be dead, and it would be simple.

Perhaps it might make sense if she could still see mercy in him. She closes her eyes, remembering the panic in his eyes that night, wondering if they have always been that black and she had mistaken the color of them at first. Hard like vengeance, melting with desperation.

Monroe is not like that anymore or with anyone else. He got her hopes up. For a while afterward, she questioned whether she was right in trying to assassinate him; her heart jumps again, now, at the image of a corpse’s body fluids dripping from his parted lips into another flask. She doesn't know. She doesn't know who he is, what he wants, his motives for destructing and half-loving and needing to drink so much when he says he cares so little. Why he comes back when she doesn't need him to, at least she didn't in the bar that night. Charlie knew what she was doing – the recklessness a formula, preparation for her inevitable death.

It could be an apology. _I am sorry you lost your family to me._ But it does not make sense when he is destroying so many others. He wears their flesh on his, yet the thought of Charlie's being slit is too much.

She doesn't sleep as she wonders what he would feel if she did it herself. Before the Patriots can. If it would help if at least no one else would ever wear her blood.


End file.
